


The White Rabbit of Unit B

by cmk418



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected side effect of the Oz aging experiment.</p>
<p>Written for LJ's 2015 Summer of OZ</p>
            </blockquote>





	The White Rabbit of Unit B

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by vanillalime's prompt about the Oz aging pill experiment going horribly wrong
> 
> The timeline for the aging drugs has been moved up to the first part of season 4 when McManus & Murphy are working in Unit B
> 
> This is a Vern & Robson-centric fic so character-appropriate derogatory slurs are within.

“Got it,” said Robson, dropping the pills into Vern’s hand.

“And you’re sure they aren’t placebos.”

“My guy assured me that these were the real thing.”

“You went through…?”

“Our usual channels, yes. No one fucked with this, Vern. I promise.”

“Fuck McManus for not offering us a shot at the stuff. He’s probably still miffed about all that trouble I gave Wittlesey after the riot. You didn’t get any for yourself?”

“Couldn’t afford it. Besides, I don’t want to lose these good looks so soon.”

“Oh well,” said Vern, tossing a pill into his mouth and swallowing it. “Down the hatch.” He repeated the process with the other pills.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Robson started.

Vern leaned back on the bed and grinned, “It’ll be fine. I can’t wait to see McManus’ face in the morning when I’m well on the way to an early parole.”

***

Robson opened his eyes. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. Normally Vern’s snores sounded like a buzzsaw that could lull him back to sleep, but this eerie silence made it seem as though he was alone in the cell – or worse yet – back with Beecher as a cellmate. He reached a hand down his boxers to check little Jimmy and was relieved to find everything as intact as it had been when he went to bed.

“Vern,” he whispered.

There was no response from the lower bunk.

Oh shit, he thought, what if the pills had worked too well and Vern was dead of old age in the bottom bunk? There’d be an investigation and he’d be in trouble. Not from the police, but from the Brotherhood. Oh, this was bad.

He could feel himself starting to panic. He took a deep breath and then climbed down to face Vern.

He noticed two things before he passed out. One, Vern was very much alive, and two, Vern was five years old.

***

“Robson, Schillinger, get your asses out here!” yelled Sean Murphy.

Robson picked himself up from his spot on the floor and shuffled out into the corridor.

“Where’s your cellmate?” Murphy asked.

Robson gestured to the lower bunk.

Murphy’s bellow of “McManus!” echoed throughout Unit B. It also managed to startle Vern awake and the boy started to cry.

“Fuck, Murphy, why’d you do that for?” Robson said, coming back into the cell, sitting on the bunk and crading Vern in his arms in an attempt to calm him down.

Timmy Kirk edged toward the bars. “Holy shit! Is that Schillinger?”

Robson weighed the option of killing the Irish bastard with a hack in the vicinity. Two hacks, now that McManus had arrived on the scene. “Where’s the fire and who let a kid in here?”

“That’s Schillinger,” giggled Kirk.

“Vern,” said the kid, helpfully.

“Fuck off, Kirk,” said McManus.

“Fuck off, Kirk,” parroted Vern.

“Would someone like to tell me how this happened?”

Robson shrugged.

“You and Mineo take everybody else down to breakfast. Robson, you’re staying with me. We’re going to see Doctor Nathan.”

***

“No!” yelled Vern. He leaned close to Robson and whispered into his ear.

“What’s the problem?” grumbled McManus.

“She’s not a nigger. She’s a Spic,” Robson responded to Vern. “And she’s the one who… she’s the only one that can help you.”

“Well, that and the tattoos pretty much confirm his identity,” Doctor Nathan said. “No one from Unit B is in the experimental aging drug program, are they?”

“None of my prisoners were worthy of that experiment.”

“A simple ‘no’ would suffice, Tim,” Doctor Nathan admonished. “The only reason I asked is because it looks like this would be the effect from one too many age-stabilizers.”

“Want to explain that to me?”

“In clinical trials, there is a control group.”

“You give them a placebo to take instead of the real thing. I know that, Gloria.”

“Well, in this experiment, the control group works differently. On day one, both they and the test group are given the aging pill. On day two, the test group is given the aging pill and the control group is given what is called an age-stabilizer, a pill that reverses the effects of the aging pill.”

“So a person taking only the age-stabilizers would become younger.”

“Theoretically, yes.”

“I think we’re well beyond theories here.”

Robson felt a tug on his sleeve. He bent down toward Vern. “What are they talking about?”

“They’re trying to figure out what happened to you. You used to be big, like me.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was…”

“Boys!” said McManus and Doctor Nathan simultaneously.

“So how are we going to get him back?” McManus asked.

Doctor Nathan didn’t say anything for a long time. The answer seemed quite obvious to Robson, but he barely graduated high school so maybe there was something more to this doctoring thing that he was missing.

Robson could feel Vern getting tense next to him. He could handle angry Vern, sadistic Vern, pensive and moody Vern, but that was Vern as an adult. Vern as a five-year-old teetering on the edge of tears made Robson nervous.

“Could we just give him a bunch of the aging pills to get him back to normal?” he asked.

“The side effects to the drug are very risky. Any cancer in the system could spread more rapidly. A cardiac incident could occur.”

Robson put his hands against Vern’s ears. “Or he could get s-h-a, fuck it, shanked because some asshole finds it easier to go after a five-year-old.”

“Shit,” said McManus, leaning heavily against the counter.

“We don’t even know how many he took.”

“Seven,” said Robson. “He took seven.”

“How did he get the drugs in the first place?” asked McManus.

Robson wanted to throttle McManus. Why was he focused on the drugs part of the situation rather than the fixing-Vern-so-he-doesn’t-get-airholed part of the situation? It was ridiculous.

“I’m bored,” said Vern. “And hungry.”

Doctor Nathan opened up a desk drawer and took out an apple, holding it out toward Vern. The boy looked from the apple over to Robson who nodded, “Eat up, buddy. It’s better than anything else you would get in this joint.”

“Can he take one a day? Like the guys who are in the program.”

“We don’t know if it will work,” said Doctor Nathan. “But it’s the best solution we’ve got.”

“He can stay here?” McManus asked.

“I’m not running a day-care, Tim.”

Robson wondered how McManus managed to work his way up to Unit Manager. Maybe he blew a lot of wardens. He grinned to himself. He’d have to share that with Vern once Vern got back to normal. If Vern got back to normal.

“PC,” said Robson. “I’m staying with him.”

“PC cells weren’t built for more than one prisoner.”

“He’s a little guy. You can bring in a cot or something. It’ll work. No way I’m leaving him alone before he can defend himself.”

McManus sighed. “Fine, whatever.”

Doctor Nathan leaned down to face Vern. “Before you go to bed every night this week, I want you to take one of these pills. Mister Robson is going to make sure that you take them. I’ll stop by to check on you in the morning.”

Vern leaned toward her to whisper something in her ear. Doctor Nathan smiled. “Well, I think that could be arranged.”

***

McManus was right about the quarters. They were tight and once the cot was in the cell, there was barely enough room for either of them to move. He’d managed to grab a deck of cards, a shank, a week’s worth of underwear and a couple of issues of Playboy from the Unit B pod before the move.

The first afternoon, the two of them played card games - Go Fish, War, Slap Jack, and a soon-to-be-forgotten game of Old Maid that left Vern giggling and calling Robson an “Old Maid” for the next hour and a half.

“Why are we in jail?”

“Because we did bad things.”

“And we got caught?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that was stupid.”

The questions started to get to Robson after a while.

“Why did we have to move?”

“Because a cell block isn’t a good place for a five-year-old.”

“Am I really five? I don’t feel five.”

“You look five and that’s what counts. I think you’re nearing forty.”

“Jeez, that’s old.”

“Do you think they’ll let me see my dad?”

“When you’re back to being you, buddy.” He probably could have put a request in, but he didn’t want to deal with the fallout from Vern’s dysfunctional relationship with his father. It was traumatic enough when Vern was a grown-up.

They had a minor skirmish when he presented Vern with the pill from Doctor Nathan. There was kicking and a lot of screaming until he finally just popped the pill into Vern’s open mouth then clamped a hand over the kid’s mouth a nose, forcing the boy to swallow. Once accomplished, he felt sharp teeth dig into his hand. “Fuck, Vern,” he yelled, grabbing the boy by the forearms. “Don’t do that again.”

Vern looked terrified and backed off immediately.

Robson sat down on the edge of the cot and ran his hand over Vern’s smooth head. “Sorry, bud. It’s something that’s got to be done to get you back to normal. I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to let anybody else hurt you either, got that?”

Robson was surprised to find himself wrapped in a hug. “I’ll be good. I promise,” was mumbled into his shirt.

“Good boy. Now go to sleep so you can wake up big and strong.”

“I think my mama used to say that.”

“She probably did.”

Robson watched Vern for a long time that night, seeing if he could catch any minute changes that could be happening. Sleep eventually won out.

The next morning, Robson woke up to a voice asking, “Where am I?” He turned away from the wall and looked at the boy on the cot. He’d grown quite a bit overnight, but still didn’t seem to be a teenager yet.

“This is Oswald State Penitentiary. You’re in the Protective Custody Unit. Your name is…”

“Vern Schillinger. I know that one. Who are you?”

“James Robson.”

“Are we friends or something?”

“Yes.”

“That’s weird. You’re not in here for being a kiddie raper, are you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Well, I need to know that I associate with quality people. No niggers or kiddie rapers.”

“Jesus.”

“Well, not necessarily him.”

“Good morning,” Doctor Nathan said from the doorway.

“Who’s that?”

“The doctor. Here for your checkup,” supplied Robson.

“Uh-huh. I don’t think dad would be real happy that I have a Spic for a doctor.”

“Well, she’s all we’ve got.”

Just as she did in her office, Doctor Nathan handed him an apple. “How are you feeling today, Vern?”

Vern looked from her to Robson.

“This will go a lot faster if you talk to me.”

“Fine. I feel fine. Everything’s fine.”

Robson took advantage of the momentary respite to head down to Unit B. Kirk’s squawking had played with the imagination of every power-tripping Aryan in the unit and that was something that needed to be put down immediately. Robson whispered in a few ears and was satisfied that Timmy Kirk wouldn’t be talking much longer. Nothing united the Brotherhood like a common enemy.

Vern looked pissed off when Robson arrived back at the cell.

“He’s fine,” said Doctor Nathan. “I see no ill effects from the medication. Call me immediately if the process seems to accelerate. I’ll be back tomorrow to follow-up.”

Vern sighed.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It was all these questions. What I could remember. Who I could remember. Did I know why I was in Oz? I’m tired. And bored.”

Robson taught him how to play poker and how to make a decent shank out of a toothbrush. They still had it out when it was time for Vern to take his pill.

“Doctor Nathan said there might be side effects.”

“Well, you took some pills before and there were side effects. Or maybe just effects, but these pills are going to take care of those effects and you’ll be better.”

“What the hell?”

“Just take the pill, Vern.”

***

“Margie, mmm… yeah. That’s right. Right there. I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

Robson bit back a laugh. It was like listening to bad porn dialogue. Kid must have taken a step forward in his development last night.

“Morning, Vern,” he said cheerfully, making sure to keep his face toward the wall. He could hear the rustle of sheets from the cot.

“Uh, yeah, morning.”

“James. We’ve met.”

“Aren’t you a little old for juvie?”

“We’re not in juvie. We’re in Oz.”

“What the fuck did I do to land myself in here?”

“Beat up a drug dealer.”

“That’s all? It’s an act of heroism. What are you in for? Petting a kitten?”

“Murder.”

“Wow. I hope we’re friends.”

“We’re cellmates. We get along. That’s as close to friends as you get in Oz.”

Doctor Nathan entered the cell. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

Vern didn’t say anything. He just stared.

Robson grinned. “Gonna head down for breakfast now. Behave, Vern.”

He could hear Vern grumbling as he walked out the door.

When Robson arrived back at the cell forty-five minutes later, Vern was sporting the beginnings of a black eye.

“Thought I told you to behave.”

“I was behaving. She was the one asking the inappropriate questions and then she said that if there was anything more she could do for me, I should tell her and I told her and – whammo! – she hit me. Girls aren’t supposed to hit like that.”

“Well, she’s been through some stuff this year.

“I’m starving. All she brought me was an apple.”

“Lunch is in six hours.”

“What are we supposed to do until then? Sit around and jerk off?”

“Well, it’s either that or play cards.”

He knew the Playboys would come in handy.

That night, Robson told Vern that the pill was “the good stuff” that he got from his guy in the infirmary. For once, Vern didn’t put up a fight.

***

Doctor Nathan pulled him out of the cell the next day. “There’s a problem with the drug.”

“No, Vern’s okay. Picked up another few years last night.”

“Fred Wick dropped dead this morning.”

“Holy shit.”

“They’re shutting down the program.”

“But we’re not finished. He’s smart, but he’s not smart enough to protect himself. If he goes out there now, he’s not going to know who to trust. Beecher and Keller will go after him and if they don’t then Ryan O’Reily will.”

Robson picked up on the subtle flinch that she gave at the mention of O’Reily’s name. “They’re confiscating the drugs. I can’t have any unaccounted for.”

“You already have seven of those age-stabilizing things that are unaccounted for. Things go lost in Oz all the time. Let me have this. If there aren’t any problems, you don’t have to come back.”

She sighed. “This is on your head, Robson.” She took an apple out of her pocket. “Here. Give this to Vern.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

He went back into the cell and sat down on the bunk. “How’re you feeling this morning, Vern?”

“Okay.”

“A friend of ours died last night from a drug overdose.”

“Good friend?”

“He was one of us. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Was that Nathan? I had a dream about her last night. Not my type, but when you’re in the desert, you look for rain anywhere you can get it.”

Robson saw that as an opportunity. “About that…”

“I don’t fuck guys.”

“Actually, you do. Not me though so don’t worry. Your last prag – real prag – not a one-off was a guy named Tobias Beecher.”

Robson proceeded to tell Vern all the details that he knew about Vern’s relationship with Beecher. And Keller. And Scott Ross. And his rape of Cyril O’Reily. With all of the questions Vern had, it took most of the day.

When he handed Vern his pill that night, Vern hesitated before taking it. “This is the stuff that the guy OD’d on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he take more than one?”

“I think so.”

“You’ll watch out for me, won’t you, James?”

“Yeah, Vern, I’ll watch out for you.”

***

“This isn’t Lardner.”

“This is Oz.”

“I feel like I should be in Lardner. Did I get transferred or something?”

“You’ve been here for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Which is…”

“A little over three years.”

“I feel like I’ve known you longer than that.”

“I have that effect on people.”

“When’s breakfast?”

“Whenever they drop it off.”

“Why are we in PC?”

“Because it’s safer.”

“I want the bunk.”

Robson smiled. He knew this day was coming. Vern was coming into his own. “It’s all yours.”

***

When they were down to two pills, Robson hesitated. “I know this wasn’t part of the plan, but if we stop now, think about how physically strong you’ll be, how much more ready to anticipate an attack. You won’t be the Vern Schillinger that got shat on by Beecher. You’ll be the guy that made a prag out of that fuck. You can take him on. And Keller. And O’Reily. The Brotherhood is waiting for you, Vern. What do you say?”

“Give them both to me,” Vern said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Robson supplied, as he handed Vern the pills.

Vern dropped the pills into the toilet and turned back to Robson.

“Oz is ours for the taking.”

***

The next night, back in Unit B, Robson was roused from a light sleep by the sound of Vern’s snoring. He hugged his pillow tightly and his eyes drifted closed.

All was right with the world.  



End file.
